ATTEW – Chapter 12

“It must have been warm inside.”

“……Yes.”

As Eunho was led into the building by the director, she thought that Seonghui’s voice and touch felt like a blanket wrapped around her body and head. Soft and warm—just like that.

Seonghui guided Eunho into an office space with a few desks. A small sofa with neatly designed cushions looked cozy, and the room was filled with gentle warmth.

“This is the space the teachers use.”

“…….”

“But if you go a little farther in, there’s a tiny bathroom. It’s really small—just right for one person.”

“…….”

“There’s a showerhead connected to the sink in there… Do you think you could wash yourself?”

“I don’t want to wash.”

“Hm… Why don’t you want to wash?”

“I’ll do it later. Later. I don’t really have to wash right now…”

After gazing quietly at Eunho, who stubbornly refused, the director took Eunho’s hand and moved behind the desk. She opened a drawer, took out a hand mirror, and held it out.

“Do you want to look?”

Was she telling her to see how dirty she was? No matter what, she’d just look like a grimy little rat.

Eunho lowered her eyes to the mirror Seonghui offered.

And what she saw reflected there was—

“…….”

“Eunho, sweetheart.”

“…….”

“There’s a lot of blood on your face.”

Red and dark stains mottled her skin. Bloodstains.

“That’s why the other children are scared. Don’t you want to wash? You can wash in warm water. If you don’t want anyone touching you, no one will. I promise.”

Eunho pressed her lips together. She’d known she looked dirty, but she hadn’t realized there was blood on her. Come to think of it, her hands had been unusually dark and stained since last night. She hadn’t known it was blood mixed with dust.

Mom’s blood.

The blood that got on her while she was wiping her mother clean.

Eunho’s small chin began to tremble. Grief and fear surged up all at once, and just as she lowered her head—

“I’ll make you one more promise.”

Eunho looked down carefully at the hand wavering in her vision, holding back tears.

“Among my friends, there are nuns, monks, and pastors. Do you know what those are?”

Eunho nodded. Even in the red-light district, there were people with religions. Hwajin had sneered at them, saying things like “As if women dragged in to sell their bodies have the right to that kind of nonsense,” but Eunho knew the words all the same.

“I’ll ask them to pray for your mother. That she can go to a good place and rest in peace.”

“…….”

“I’m sorry. That’s all I can do for her.”

“Hic…”

“So, Eunho.”

Eunho slowly placed her hand on top of Seonghui’s, which waited without touching first. The hand that gently enclosed her dirty one was warm.

“Hic, kuhk, heu… huup…”

“Shall we try living well here together? Studying and playing with friends. Going to school.”

“Hngh… sniff…”

“So your mother won’t worry about you.”

“Hic… ngh…”

“So she can think, ‘Eunho is doing well. Eunho is growing up fine.’ Okay?”

At those words, Eunho finally burst into the sobs she had been holding back, in Seonghui’s arms. She didn’t know who reached out first—whether Eunho clung to her, or Seonghui embraced her first.

In Seonghui’s arms, roomier and softer than Hwajin’s ever were, Eunho cried for a long time. Forgetting Hwajin’s admonition not to cry, she cried bitterly and without restraint. She nodded again and again as years of buried resentment and sorrow poured out of her.

It felt as though something long frozen inside her body was wrapped in gentle warmth and slowly melted away. It was sad—and yet, somehow, it was also a relief.

***

“Let go, fuck. What kind of bitch is she?”

“Hey, just go. Come on.”

“Hey, you fucking bitch! You think you’re so great?”

“I said, let’s go!”

“What makes a convenience-store clerk think she’s anything special, fuck.”

Mopping the convenience store floor, Eunho turned up the volume on the earphones in her ears. The man’s red-faced shouting faded into near silence.

She didn’t have time to waste responding to people like that. Who would be scared by that kind of noise? Dogs that are afraid bark the loudest.

Ignoring the man’s ranting, Eunho focused on scrubbing the stains from the floor.

Her shift was almost over. The convenience store job—weekends only—ended at five. Today, she planned to buy a snack that Sola had been begging to try before heading back to the center. She’d already noted where it was sold on her way to work.

Hot dogs are coming back into fashion these days. Unlike before, there were chain stores with all kinds of fillings and customizable sauces. When Eunho heard about that trend, she wanted to try one too, honestly.

Even at twenty years old, hot dogs were still a food of memories for Eunho. They were the first thing she’d eaten on the day she met Director Han Seonghui over ten years ago, and ever since, they’d become a quiet way of sharing feelings with her.

Whenever Seonghui went out with Eunho, she always bought hot dogs. After seeing Eunho devour one so happily on that first day—with blood and grime still streaked across her face—Seonghui said she could never pass by hot dogs again.

“Director, I’m twenty now. You don’t have to keep buying me hot dogs.”

“Eunho, I’m sixty-two.”

“…”

“Did you know? Hot dogs taste even better when you eat them at sixty-two.”

“…”

“But it’s a little awkward to eat alone, so eat with me, okay?”

Last summer, Seonghui had said that with a girlish smile. A few days later, she was found collapsed over her office desk.

After calling emergency services, at the hospital, Eunho learned that there was a tumor in Seonghui’s brain—bigger than an adult fist.

“Can’t you have surgery? They said you could still live if you do!”

“They’d have to cut out this much of my skull.”

“The doctor recommended it. So please, have the surgery.”

“…”

“There’s a fifty percent chance the surgery would be successful, and I’d live.”

“…”

“But even if I live, there’s an eighty percent chance of brain damage.”

“…”

“Eunho, I want to be a beautiful person until the moment I die.”

Faced with Seonghui as she said that, Eunho couldn’t say a single word.

“Would it be so bad to live like this until I die? Playing yutnori and eating ice cream with the kids, eating hot dogs with you.”

“…”

“Still, I’m glad. I got to see you become an adult.”

“Sniff…”

“I should have seen you go to college, too. I told you to take the CSAT when you could—why didn’t you listen? You’ve never listened, ever since you were little. Tsk.”

“Hic…”

“No, no. I’m kidding. Our Eunho always listened. The best listener of all. You must be curious about the wider world, but you stayed by my side and helped me with my work. I’m always grateful.”

Eunho still remembered those soft hands, smiling as they held and stroked her own. How could she ever forget? Seonghui had filled every hollow Hwajin couldn’t.

All through nineteen, Eunho had been troubled by thoughts of independence. At school, they urged her to go to college, but no matter how she thought about it, money was the problem. Living alone and attending university with only the government’s independence support stipend felt risky.

In truth, the money Eunho had brought with her on the day Hwajin died was considerable. Adding together the bundles of bills stuffed into the pillow—more than cotton—and the rolls of cash bound with rubber bands from the money box, it came to just under twelve million won. With Seonghui’s help, Eunho deposited it all into an account under her own name.

“Eunho, now is the time to use the money your mother left you. Let’s use it for college. I really want you to take the CSAT.”

Seonghui tried to persuade her again and again, but Eunho couldn’t bring herself to use that money lightly. No one knew better than her how that money had been earned.

She couldn’t even bring herself to tell Seonghui that her mother had died over five thousand won of sex money.

So instead of college, Eunho decided to work in a factory for a year and earn her tuition. Seonghui was deeply upset by that decision.

Then, a few days later, Seonghui called Eunho in—and made a proposal Eunho had never expected.